The Art Of War
by Agent Five
Summary: Oneshot. Season 3. An angry orphan of the unfolding conflict seeks revenge and targets Dean. Adult material.


Usual disclaimer, as ever, applies. Wish they were mine though ...

Set in season 3 ... and came about because one of the best villains of the show is bound to have something to say about the death of YED ...

Rated due to adult material. Let that be a warning!

* * *

"_Just wait here."_

As last words went, her father's had to be right up there with the absolute worst ones in history. They burned into her brain and made her chest ache.

She could still see him standing there. So confident, so sure. It was all going exactly as he had planned and he was smiling in a way she could never remember seeing until that moment.

And there had been a time when she was sure that she would never see him again, happy or otherwise. He had been pissed, crazy angry. She had defied him and she had been sure for a while back there that nothing in this world or beyond would make him come close to forgiving her. She was wrong.

The closer he came to gaining all that he had sought and fought so hard for, the more contented he seemed to become. Everything was sinking into place and it was all becoming the perfect vision of the future he had endlessly spoken of.

The sight of it was glorious. Just as he had described. The night sky had become the darkest black she had ever seen and then the earth itself had shuddered beneath her feet. With a noise like a freight train passing, the wind had rushed past her and something deep within her had surged to sudden life. Like a long forgotten wound suddenly stinging, the pain had scared her at first. But then bliss like nothing she had known before burst into being.

And then she saw them. Old friends and exciting new strangers swarming out from somewhere deep in the forest. The iron railings at her feet had shattered and recoiled, the still burning gash in the outer wall open and smoking.

It was too much temptation for her to resist. And at the risk of facing his wrath once again, she had stepped inside the broken fortress. Hurrying in the opposite direction of the many who streamed outwards, she found the cemetery and was filled with pride as she saw the tomb and the doors that hung wide.

The heat from within was like the touch of a forbidden lover's kiss on her skin. Staring in wonder at the bright burning glow from deep within the gate, she could smell the fires within and it was terrifying and pleasurable at the same time.

Then she caught sight of the figures moving as shadows before the orange glow. Fear and anger gripped her and threw her forwards into a run. She saw the fight, saw the ghost that moved among them, saw the ambush, saw the slaughter.

Her scream had no sound. Her heart cried out in terror and fury but her voice could not be heard above the noise of her world crumbling in tatters around her.

Darkness. The doors slammed closed and she looked on through her tears as the lock was again sealed. Her eyes then moved to the two figures just visible in the clearing. They stood for a long moment, basking in the glory of the murder. Gloating and remorseless, they looked down on their kill with satisfaction.

And then the elder crouched down, examining more closely the unmoving body that lay slain at his feet. She watched in revulsion, sure that they were going to tear off some vile souvenir of their hunt. Relieved as they turned and walked away, she then was filled with rage.

She could imagine gripping their fragile bodies and tearing them to pieces. She could hear their screams, feel the warmth of their blood on her hands and taste the metallic twang of their lives on her lips. It would be glorious revenge and she would dwell forever in the peace that would come from knowing she had ripped them apart and scattered their souls to the wind.

But she had also recognized another. She glared at his departing figure through her tears and clenched her fists. Anger would weaken her, make her lose focus, and she could not afford to take them on with any distraction. Especially not him.

The sound of the vehicles firing up brought her back from her wishful imagination and she lifted her head. She was trembling and weeping as she staggered past the headstones and made her way towards the slowly burning remains.

His body was flittering on the wind as ashes and she slumped to the ground. Gone. It was such a hollow feeling that she was sure she would disappear inside of her own grief. Not banished, not trapped, not missing. Gone. Destroyed. Dead.

Watching the flames licking at all that was left of his corporeal form, the fire roaring with the power of him, she made a vow to seek vengeance. It would be fitting for all that they had taken from her and it would be slow. But most of all, it would be painful.

* * *

She was gorgeous. The sort of woman a man dreamed of bumping into in a place such as this. And later he would come to remember how that notion alone should have been enough of a warning. Too good to be true and completely out of place, the danger should have been obvious.

But his head was clouded with whisky and his body was aching deep down to his soul. What she offered was exactly what he had needed right at that moment. And yes, once again, that should have been enough to make him walk the other way.

"I've got a room."

Dean's mind was swimming and all he could focus on was the gentle stroking of her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes moved down her face, from the dark brown eyes that seemed to drink him in to the full pink lips that were now pulled into the smallest of smiles.

"What? You actually have to think about it?" She laughed softly, "I'm obviously out of practice."

"Oh yeah?"

She nodded and edged closer, leaning against the bar and pressing her hips against his. "I've been busy … and it's been too, too long."

Dean felt the warmth of her hand long before her fingertips brushed over the denim that covered his thigh and he felt a shudder of desire rippled through him.

"You think you could remind me what to do?"

Laughing suddenly, Dean hung his head and gave a soft groan. He was having a hard enough time simply standing beside the tall brunette in a crowded bar. How he would cope when he was alone with this beautiful creature he had no idea. But god did he want to find out.

She saw the look in his eyes as he lifted his gaze to meet hers and her smile grew. Leaning in even closer, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips and felt his instant response. She brushed the tip of her tongue across his and felt the hot breath of a sigh that washed over her mouth. Without another word she grabbed his hand and led him towards the door.

Once inside the dark motel room, she kicked the door shut and grabbed his shoulders. Shoving him backwards against the inside wall with a thud, she pressed her body up against his and kissed him deeply.

Dean trailed his hands over her lithe body and slipped them up under her t-shirt, feeling the hot skin beneath. She was rubbing her crotch against his and rocking her hips, her gentle groans begging him to give her the satisfaction she craved.

Sliding his hands round to her chest, he felt the fullness of her breasts beneath the lace underwear and heard her gasp of pleasure. Moving his fingers down over her warm abdomen and under the waist of her skirt, he found the hem of her lace panties and pulled the elastic aside.

"Not yet."

"What?"

She laughed gently and moved back from him a little to pull his hand free. "I want to taste you first."

Dean sighed and smiled back at her. "I don't know how long I can hold out."

"Then we'll just start over." She shrugged and kissed him again, searching his mouth with her tongue.

He was aware of her fingers gently stroking the hard bulge under his jeans. In fact, for a second it was all he could think of. The room danced around him as he took a deep breath of her scent and drank in the moment. And then she was sliding off his jacket and pulling up his shirt. He helped her yank the cotton clear of his torso and gasped as her mouth was on his skin.

She kissed his chest and flicked her tongue across his nipples, again placing her hand over the growing erection still caged within his trousers. Kneeling down, she opened the fly of his jeans and kissed the soft downy hair that swept down from his navel. Aware of his legs buckling slightly and the hands that grabbed at her long hair, she smiled happily.

Pulling his jeans down over his hips, she stroked her hands round behind him and under the waist of his shorts. Grasping his firm buttocks and feeling him buck against her, she swept the cotton aside and moved her hands back around.

Dean felt first the cool air of the room washing over his suddenly bare hips and then the hot breath of her sigh as she leaned in close to kiss his abdomen. His mind was loud with desire and his urgent panting filled the room. Clenching his teeth, he then felt her lips brush over his erection and his breath was forced from his lungs in a loud sob.

"I guess I'm doing it right." She remarked merrily, looking up and seeing him arching his neck, the veins under his chin wide and throbbing. Smiling, she licked at the soft tip of his erection and felt him shudder. Taking hold of the length of him, she gently rubbed her fisted fingers up and down and continued to lick and suck at the firm flesh.

"Oh god - " Deans knees buckled and he slid down the wall slightly, his hands grabbing at the wallpaper and trying to find something to hold on to. Reaching forward he found her shoulders and leaned against her, his head hung low as she tasted him. When she took him into her mouth, he cried out and his head flew back. Unable to stop the reactive rocking of his hips, he arched his back and fought to catch his breath.

Suddenly she stopped and got to her feet. Leaning in against him, she felt his erection pressing into her skirt and folding the material between her legs. "You want me … don't you …"

"God, yes." It was barely a whisper.

"You like this body."

"Yes."

"Take me then."

Dean opened his eyes and met hers, seeing the obvious desire that lay there. He pushed himself away from the wall and wrapped his arms around her waist. Lifting her feet from the floor and staggering towards the bed, he carried her the short way across the room.

She laughed as she was thrown onto the generous double bed and she bounced against the mattress. Looking up at him, she watched him hurriedly stepping out of his jeans and then he kneeled at the foot of the bed.

Pulling her t-shirt up over her head, she then arched her back and fumbled behind her back to unclip her bra. She saw him watching her and smiled as she saw the approval on his face as she freed her breasts and threw her clothes to the floor.

Reaching up under her, Dean grabbed her hips and pulled her down the bed. Sliding off her skirt and then hooking his fingers in the straps of her panties, he kissed the inside of her thighs and nibbled at her skin, working his way up her legs.

"No."

Dean lifted his head and in the dim lighting from beyond the curtains he saw her smiling warmly down at him.

"I want you in me."

It was all the instruction he needed. He climbed up onto the bed and crawled after her as she shifted higher up the mattress. Placing his arms either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her mouth and stroked his tongue over her lips. She kissed him back hungrily and drew his bottom lip into her mouth and between her teeth.

Her hands grabbed at his hips and pulled him down towards her. Aware of her lifting her knees up and wrapping her feet around the back of his thighs, he could feel her arching towards him and he groaned in desire. Sinking down onto her, he reached down between them and moved her panties aside. And then he entered the tight wet warmth of her.

She gasped in delight and clawed at his hips, pulling him lower and rocking against him. "Oh god, this feels so good."

"Yeah." He managed.

"It's been so long. Too long."

Dean could feel the first tingle beginning deep at the base of his spine and arched his neck. He then felt her hands move up his back and over her shoulders. Her fingers slid into his hair and she pulled his head back down.

"Not yet."

"What?" Dean laughed suddenly, "God, woman, it's not something you can just stop."

"No?"

Dean laughed again and stared down at her in amused interest. "No." Suddenly aware that she had grown still beneath him and concerned by the sombre expression that had come over her face, he frowned at her. "What?"

Her sudden movement was so fast that -- even if his swimming, half-fulfilled body had been able to -- he had no time to react. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them out from under him. He fell onto her chest with a worried gasp and then felt the cold metal of the cuffs she expertly clicked into place.

Automatically tugging against the cuffs, he heard the chain crunch against the metal struts of the headboard and grunted in annoyance. "What the fuck? What's going on?" He demanded hurriedly, his face hanging beside her neck.

"What? You don't like toys?" She inquired innocently.

"Not quite like this."

"Hmm. It hasn't turned you off though." She writhed beneath him and rocked her hips.

Dean closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Despite being furious and more than a little concerned, she knew how to move under him and he felt his body respond.

"This is how I want it." She offered quietly, "This is how I have envisioned it, Dean Winchester."

Dean froze and lifted his head, angling his neck to see her face in the semi-darkness. "How - "

"How do I know your name?" She laughed softly. "Oh, I know you. I know you very well."

Shit shit shit shit. Dean's mind was racing and his heart pounding in his ears. Not enjoying the position he found himself in, he began to pull up his knees and gasped as she grabbed his hips with her hands and sank her nails into his skin.

"Oh no no no." She chuckled softly. "You're not going anywhere."

Unbalanced and laying across her once more, Dean closed his eyes and tried to think of a way to escape, visions of federal agents and prison cells flashing in his mind.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Why have you stopped?"

Dean could not help the laugh that barked forth and he shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane!"

"What? You're the one who said it couldn't be turned off."

"I was wrong. You found a way. Congratulations."

"Fine." She pushed against his chest and wriggled down under him.

Dean sighed in relief as she slid clear and he buried his face into the bed covers.

"We'll just start over."

She was strong. Unnaturally strong. Dean gasped as she grabbed his legs and twisted him over. The cuffs entangled his wrists at an odd angle and he grunted in pain as the metal cut into his skin. And then she was sat astride his thighs, her fingers stroking up and down his chest.

"So." Dean tried to calm his breathing and managed an even smile. "How do we know each other?"

"Oh. It'll come back to you."

Dean sighed slightly. "No, seriously. I'm intrigued. I think I'd remember someone as beautiful as you."

The compliment went unnoticed and she held his steady gaze.

"At least tell me your name. That might trigger something."

"I wanted you that first night we met." She suddenly smiled and took hold of what remained of his erection, sliding her fist along it's growing length. "Your arrogance, your self-confidence, your testosterone. I could smell it a mile away."

Dean clenched his teeth and breathed through his nose, willing his body not to enjoy her touch. It betrayed him without a moment's hesitation and he squirmed beneath her.

"I could tell that you wanted me, too." She slid back a little and lowered her head to kiss his stomach. "But that was not the time."

Dean closed his eyes as she sucked his erection into her mouth and her tongue curled around the tip, flicking and stroking. He could feel the inevitable tension building and his mind was starting to fog. Then she stopped and he had a moment to catch his breath. Aware of her moving again, she felt her angle him inside her and he strained against the groan that caught in his throat.

"Yes, that's it. Come on." She sighed in delight and rocked back and forth.

Dean clenched his fists and bit his tongue. Bucking against her, he felt the sudden climax build and grunted as he came inside her and she laughed merrily. She was still laughing as she clambered off of him and collected her clothes from the floor.

"Oh, I just love it." She pulled on her underwear and grinned down at him. "To think that you've no idea who you've just fucked. It's priceless."

He watched her tug on her skirt and t-shirt and dread flowed through him.

"That alone will keep me going for a while." She chuckled, calming as she perched on the bed and stroked her hand up his chest. "You see … I understand you, Dean. Your need for female company." Smiling, she looked up at his face. "And I know you have this little moral code. You're very careful who you share yourself with."

Dean's breath quickened and he stared at her in confusion.

"I also know how much your masculine nature means to you." She continued softly. "It's your Achilles heel." She stood from the bed and turned to peer in the mirror. Straightening her hair and glancing at his reflection, she shrugged slightly. "See. I'm something of a Trojan horse."

The room was dancing wildly around him as he absorbed her words and also tried to think of a way to get free. Even calling for help was starting to seem a good option.

"It's war, Dean." She turned and perched on the edge of the cabinet. "And I'm here to take out one of the enemy's strongest weapons." Smiling, she laughed softly once again. "And also force one of you to come over to our side. All in one swift move."

He understood that threat all too well and it made his stomach flip over. "Killing me will only make Sam more determined to - "

"Who said anything about killing you?"

Dean watched her smiling in amusement and his body trembled with the adrenaline that his anger and fear were generating.

"It's an ancient trick. Wound the enemy and force them to carry and care for their own. It slows them down, makes them weaker."

"It won't work."

"It's worth a try."

Her mood had changed and he did not like the obvious hatred that had replaced her calm self-confidence. He watched her cross back to the bed and tensed as she reached out for his legs. Again he was lifted and spun. Face down in the bed, the handcuffs slackening and the metal no longer cutting into his wrists. He then heard a door unlock somewhere behind him and he turned his head. The bathroom was open and he frowned in confusion as he saw a shadow moving within.

Movement beside him and the mattress sank away. Turning his head back, he saw her perched next to him and his heart slammed into his chest. They were not alone. Footsteps in the room behind him and he saw her look up and nod.

"Whatever you do to me, I swear I will hunt you down and make you pay." Dean growled angrily.

She looked down at him and her gentle smile returned. "No. You won't."

The mattress dipped at the foot end of the bed and Dean gasped in horror.

"Like I said. I know you, Dean." She leaned down closer to him and her smile grew. "I know just how to destroy you. And I know you'll not be able to speak of it to anyone. Especially Sam."

Dean heard the zip of a fly being undone and yelled in horror. Kicking out at whoever was behind him, he then felt strong hands grab his ankles and he was pinned to the bed.

"You'll be lost and Sammy will be vulnerable."

"No!" Dean cried out desperately and heard her laugh gently, enjoying watching him panic and squirm. Suddenly realizing that there was nothing he could do to stop what was happening and understanding how much she was enjoying it, he gritted his teeth and let his head fall onto the bed.

He kept her steady gaze and saw her smiling in the dimly lit room. He was sure her eyes were as black as the night beyond the window and he now had a pretty good idea who she was. Or at least who was inside her.

Rough hands lifted his hips up from the bed and he flinched as he felt the warm tip of the man's erection brush against him. Dean kept his focus on her quietly contented expression and gripped his hands into tight fists as the man moved closer and rammed his erection deep into him.

How he did not scream he did not know. Even as the violent rocking began and it tore at his skin, he stayed silent. There was no way he was giving her the pleasure of seeing him beg for mercy or surrender to what was happening. He gave her nothing. No reaction at all.

It seemed to go on forever. Sweat trickled down his face and pain ripped through him. And then at last came the satisfied grunting and panting of the man's noisy climax. With a contented sigh the man withdrew and salty fluids stung against damaged flesh.

He heard the man dress and then the motel door open and close. Cold air washed over his naked body and he began to shiver. He tensed against even this; he did not want to give her any sign that he was suffering.

She was still watching him, still smiling thinly. After a moment she leaned close to him and took a deep breath. "That was for my father. You son-of-a-bitch."

-fin-


End file.
